Better Than A Hallelujah
by Penelope the Perky Penguin
Summary: A series of Songfic-oneshots. Features 8 different characters and all kinds of different genres. Most are spiritual- please note there is character death in chapter 4. 'Better Than a Hallelujah' by Amy Grant.
1. Teyla

AN: I'm still in the Songfic mood, so here's some more. Each chapter focuses on a different person (or persons), and will vary in length.  
Song is 'Better Than a Hallelujah' by Amy Grant, and I have to say that it's my current favorite.

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine. The idea is, but the song and fandom aren't.

Character: Teyla Emmagan

/\_/\_/\

_God loves a lullaby  
In a mother's tears in the dead of night_

She sat on her bed, alone, watching her son sleep. She wanted to pray, to thank her Savior for everything she had to give her son. But she couldn't. She could only think of what she _couldn't_ give him, and that was a lot. She couldn't give him a father, a solid home, or the reassurances that she wouldn't leave him.

She was on the frontline team, she left almost everyday with the possibility that she wouldn't be coming home.

Silent tears rolled down her cheeks, her thoughts uncontrollable. She'd asked her God many times why He'd let her lover and the father of her son be taken by her worst enemy … But she never received an answer.

Falling sideways to lay on her soft mattress, the tears began coming with a rush- soaking her pillow as she sobbed. She cried out with all her heart, asking why. Demanding, asking, begging for an answer … and yet still there was none.

Her cries died off and she continued to lay there, motionless. Then, so soft she almost missed it, a Voice filled the room and herself.

"Do not worry." The Voice said. "_I_ will be with you. _I_ will be his Father. _I_ will give you both a solid home. _I_ will comfort him when you're away."

She knew, without a doubt, that the Voice belonged to her heavenly Father. Just hearing His Voice comforted her, and she fell asleep, her thoughts suddenly lightened.

_Better than a Hallelujah sometimes_


	2. Evan

**Author's Note:** Thanks to those that reviewed, and I hope those that read liked it :) Next up... Major Evan Lorne

/\_/\_/\

_God loves the drunkard's cry  
The soldier's plea not to let him die  
_

He hung limp, his body numb and his mind foggy. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, but he knew it'd been awhile. His arms were numb from having the weight of his body pulling against them, and he was sure one of his shoulders was dislocated.  
He'd been injected with a drug, one that made him feel like he was drunk and made his thoughts hard to capture. He'd then been hung in a freezing hut with his feet not quite reaching the dirt floor.  
He was almost positive he was going to die, and he also knew he had to fight as hard as he could. He needed to get the information to his CO or more people would die.

Noise from outside the hut caught his attention and he raised his head so he could see the door. The movement brought a painful tingling that moved through his whole body.  
He found himself praying to his Father, the only thing his muddled mind had not been kept from doing.

"_Please." _He pled silently._ "Please don't let me die. Please let me get this information back home so more people won't die. Please."_

No sooner than he finished his prayer than a Voice filled the hut, reaching and filling his own body with a strength he'd never felt before.

"I am here. You will be safe, trust Me." The Voice told him as his fears faded into the past.

Moments after the Voice faded, the door burst open and four Marines rushed into the room.

_Better than a Hallelujah sometimes_


	3. Jennifer

Character: Doctor Jennifer Keller

/\_/\_/\

_We pour out our miseries  
God just hears a melody  
Beautiful, the mess we are  
The honest cries of breaking hearts_

She sat in her office, door closed and windows covered, trying to not think about the man that had just died. It wasn't her fault, he'd lost too much blood and there was nothing she could do, but she couldn't but help feel responsible. There must have been _something_ she could've done.

She'd recently become acquainted with the God of the universe, and a benefit of that was that she could pour out her heart and soul to Him, and He wouldn't tell anyone. She took advantage of that right then, crying out everything that was bothering her. She'd never wanted to be CMO, she wasn't good on missions, and she got frightened if she even _looked_ at a weapon… How was she supposed to live in the Pegasus Galaxy if she was afraid of everything?

She didn't expect a reply, but she got one anyway in the form of a Voice filling the room and her mind with a sense of peace and security.

"Do not worry, I am here. _I_ will keep you safe. _I_ gave you this job. _I_ brought you to this place, on the outskirts of everything you've ever known. _I_ will be here for you, every moment of every day. Trust _Me_."

Silently thinking over what she'd just heard, she could only think of one reply. "I will."

_Are better than a Hallelujah_


	4. Kate & Aiden

Characters: Doctor Kate Heightmeyer & Lieutenant Aiden Ford

Warnings: Character deaths

/\_/\_/\

_The woman holding on for life_

She didn't know why she was standing on the railing of the control room's balcony, but she had the feeling that it wasn't real. It felt real, it smelled real, it looked real … but she didn't think it was.

Teyla came out onto the balcony, concern for her friend evident on her face. "Kate, what are you doing?"

She had the feeling that she was going to die. Of course, being in a completely new galaxy had it's dangers, but this was a new feeling. "I don't wanna die." She heard herself say.

"Good. Come down from there."

"I can't." It was true, she couldn't bring herself to move, could hardly balance on the rail.

"Why not?" Teyla asked, confused.

"Help me." She pled, almost as if Teyla hadn't spoken. "Please."

Teyla started forward to help, when suddenly Colonel Sheppard was there, blocking her way. She didn't know why he was there, or why she was there for that matter, but it was beside the point.

"John, stop it! Stop it!" Teyla shouted as the Colonel grabbed her, stopping her from going to the railing. "I have to help her. What are you doing? John, get out of the way!"

"Teyla!" She heard herself say her friend's name- one last plead for help. "Teyla!"

"Kate!" Teyla shouted, watching as her friend lost her balance and fell backwards, over the edge of the balcony.

She screamed, trying to remember that it was only a dream, and dreams couldn't kill you. But the feeling was too real, too strong. She couldn't stop the feelings from flooding her body as she fell from the highest tower, rolling in the air before finally coming to an abrupt stop at the bottom.

She held on for a moment longer, her spiritual mind telling her that she would finally be going home, to be with her family and friends. Her human mind tried to make her stay, even while the pull of eternal salvation came with a rush. She felt her consciousness, her soul, leave her body. It was the strangest feeling, but one that was welcome.

She whispered a goodbye to her friends, telling them to not be sad, but to rejoice that she was going home. She knew they would be sad, would blame themselves, but she hoped that maybe, just maybe, they'd understand.

"Lord." She prayed. "I'm coming home."

/\_/\_/\

_The dying man giving up the fight  
_

The clarity that came with his thoughts scared him, but he accepted them. He was dying.

A vial of his life blood was within reach, but he stopped himself. He felt that now was his time. He'd come so far from his home, turned against his own friends, started doing his own thing, and he was now going to die alone.  
The one thing he'd hoped to never do, he was doing. It was his choice. He could easily grab the vial and a needle, giving him the strength he needed to continue. But he wouldn't. He regretted a lot of the choices he'd made during the past couple years, and now he'd pay for them.

He'd pay for betraying his friends, for accusing them of turning their backs on him when he'd done the same thing to them. The enzyme that was his life force was slowly dissolving, leaving him trembling on the cold, stone floor.

He could live for years more if he used the enzyme. But his life had already been too much of a slave to it, so he wouldn't. He was giving up. Giving up the fight; Giving up on life. He could go through withdrawal and the pain that came with it, or he could die. Alone. On a hard, stone cold floor in a cave in the middle of nowhere.

His life was a mess. It'd started out alright- being raised be his Grandparents, joining the Marines when he was old enough, and being transferred to the Pegasus Galaxy, the farthest away from home he could get. He didn't _want_ to leave home, but he did want to serve his country. And if he did that from a completely different galaxy, so be it. He'd protect his family at any cost, even his own life.

And so he had. He'd destroyed so many hive ships… Killed so many Wraith… Betrayed so many friends…

In a way, he'd turned against his own family under the guise of protecting them. Yes, the enzyme made you stronger, faster, better, but it wasn't worth the cost. It was like medicine- if you took it often enough, you'd become immune to it.

So now it was his time. His last chance to repent for everything he'd done. And so he did. He prayed out, pleading and begging for forgiveness. He was angry, bitter and resentful. Not of his old friends, but of himself. He'd done so much, who was he to ask for forgiveness?

A small, still voice resounded in his head in reply. It filled him with assurance; with peace. "I forgive you."

Tears of joy rolled down his face, slowly dropping to mix with the dirt on the floor. His eyes closed, and he took one last breath.

_Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes_


	5. John

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone that's reviewed :) I really, really appreciate it!  
I am sooooooo sorry for not getting this up days ago! It wasn't finished, and I didn't really have time to finish it as I was working backstage at my local theatre. In addition, the day I was going to finish it, our power went out briefly and our server went *SPLAT!* taking ALL my stories with it.  
On top of that, I've got a Three Musketeers story running around my head that won't leave me alone (thanks to my sister who takes every opportunity to ask me if I'm done with it yet).

The next few chapters may also be slow in coming, but please bear with me as I promise to get them up as soon as I can.

And finally, your featured character: Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard.

/\_/\_/\

_The tears of shame for what's been done  
The silence when the words won't come_

His tears dripped silently to land on the railing, rolling slowly to fall again, this time landing who knows where.  
He'd let his friends down again. And that knowledge burned through his soul with a fire so great he thought he might die then and there. The shame flowed through his body, making itself known.

He couldn't bring himself to say anything. Couldn't bring himself to talk to anyone. It was his fault, yet it wasn't. He was the one to touch the stupid crystal that led to Kate's, and nearly Rodney's, death. It was he that made his XO almost shoot him and Carter. And yet people still tried to tell him it wasn't his fault; that the crystals had a way of luring in their prey and there was nothing he could do to stop himself.

But he still felt responsible. He figured Lorne was the lucky one, what with not remembering almost shooting his CO's.

He'd come to this balcony on the outskirts of the populated city so he could be alone, and alone he was. Some days he wondered if it'd be best if he didn't come back from a suicide mission, and other days where he hoped to live out his days in his city.  
While he knew that it wasn't up to him, that it was up to his Savior, he couldn't help but question why Kate had been allowed to die in such a horrible fashion... Why Carson had died… Why Elizabeth was gone… Why Ford, Sumner, Everett… All of them, he had failed. Failed to protect them; failed to do his job. That stung more than anything.  
He knew beating himself up over it wouldn't get them back, but he felt so responsible for their deaths. Ford, Elizabeth and Everett might still be alive somewhere, but Ford was beyond help, Elizabeth was with the Replicators, and Everett would never work again.

"Why?" He whispered, contemplating just jumping from the balcony so he wouldn't be the cause of more people's deaths.

He didn't expect a reply, or at least not a vocal one, but that's what he got.

"It is My plan. Kate and Carson are with Me now. Rejoice, for they are happier than they have ever been. Your time will come, but not today. You have friends with you, and they will help you through this hard time. You have a mission, you cannot leave that undone."

"A mission?" He asked, slightly reassured at his Father's words.

"Tell others about Me. About the comfort I can give. I love you, John. You are my child. And I want nothing to happen to you. So tell others, and when it's your time, I will let you know and bring you Home."

_Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes_


	6. Rodney

Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in posting, McKay is very hard for me to write and since I had absolutely no inspiration for this chapter… Yeah. But anyway, here it is. It was inspired by S2E6- Trinity- and a quote between Sheppard and McKay in said episode.  
I know the previous ones have taken place in Season 4 around Doppelganger, and this one takes place in Season 2, but these are really just little oneshots about each of the characters so the timeline has no meaning here.

Warnings: It's dark… Very dark… (I credit the darkness to one of my bestest friends, Kelcy. It's all her fault)

Spoilers: S2E6- Trinity

Quote: _"A member of your team is in the morgue."_

_"And I am responsible for his death, yes. I am _painfully_ aware of that. I sent him in there and I will have to live with that for the rest of my life."_

/\_/\

_We pour out our miseries  
God just hears a melody  
Beautiful, the mess we are  
The honest cries of breaking hearts  
_

Alone… All alone… Not because there was no one around, but because he didn't deserve their friendship or their comfort. Not after what he did. He was reprimanded for it, given looks of disdain… But no looks or words could equal what he felt. What he was doing to himself because of what he did.  
He destroyed a solar system. Well, five sixths, but close enough. Not only that, but someone died as a result of his actions. Someone died because he thought he knew what he was doing, even though he didn't.

The burned bodies should've been a big clue, as should've the deserted planet, but he ignored his assistants and Collins died as a result. If you broke it down enough, like he had, you would find that technically _he_ had killed Collins. He wasn't a military man, he was a scientist. A great mind in the midst of chaos. He wasn't supposed to kill people, he was supposed to discover things that would help better human kind and assist in the fight against their enemies.

But here he was- alone in the pitch black of his lab, wanting no company. He'd apologized to Elizabeth, Zelenka and Sheppard, and thanked Caldwell for his excellent timing, but he hadn't forgiven himself yet. He wasn't sure he ever could.

He wondered if maybe… Maybe life would be better without him, without his egotistical manners and his awkward ways… The gun he held in his hand was proof that he'd thought this through, and now he had only to pull the trigger and it was over. Not that anyone on Atlantis would miss him. They only wanted him for his mind, and Zelenka was almost as smart as him, if not as smart- not that he'd ever tell him that.

The more he thought about it, the more he found he was right. Zelenka could take his place, it wasn't that hard to fill his shoes.  
All he had to do was squeeze the trigger and all this pain, all the heartache, would be over.

Elizabeth would probably be glad to have him gone, as would Sheppard. Zelenka would go looking through his stuff, finding all his notes and calculations. And no one would miss him… Except maybe Carson. But even the good doctor seemed a little reluctant to talk to him after the Dorandan incident. Perhaps just ending this would be for the best. He wouldn't get to have any more discoveries, but he wouldn't kill anyone either.

Yeah… The more he thought about it, the more he found it the right thing. Just end it- for him and for everyone else. Just shoot himself right here, right now… No one would miss him, he doubted anyone would care…

He and Teyla weren't friends, and Ronon was, well, Ronon. Ford was bonkers and wouldn't care…  
His hand trembled as he quickly typed a last message, 'Goodbye', on a datapad and brought the gun up to his temple.

Tears flowing from his eyes, he slowly, ever so slowly, began squeezing the trigger… But a voice made him stop.

"Don't."

A single word, coming from seemingly nowhere, but he followed the instruction. He stopped and lowered the gun back to his lap.

"What?"

"I said, 'Don't.'"

"Where are you? Who are you?"

"I'm all around you, Rodney. And you know who I am."

A tingling covered his skin, and he suddenly knew exactly who was speaking to him.

"That's impossible! You're not real!" He shouted, shifting to curl in on himself.

"You know I'm real, why deny it?" The Voice questioned.

"If You were real You would have saved her! You wouldn't have let her die!"

"I didn't 'let' her do anything, I brought her Home. Where she belongs."

"No!" He shouted again, covering his head with his arms, trying to block out the Voice. "She doesn't belong with You, she belongs with me! With her family! With her children!"

"No, Rodney." A woman's voice filled the room, startling the man huddled in the corner. "I'm where I need to be."

His head shot up, staring at the mirage in front of him. The woman wore a solid white frock, her golden blonde hair falling to her mid-back. Her green eyes shone brightly above full, red lips. She was gorgeous- in the utmost sense of the word. She looked to be in her mid-thirties and definitely in her prime.

"M-Mom?" He stuttered, not believing his eyes.

"Yes, Rodney. I'm here." The woman knelt beside him, carefully combing her fingers through his hair. It felt so real to him, though he knew it couldn't be.

"That's impossible…" He gasped. "You're- you're… dead." He whispered the last word, hoping against hope the mirage would last.

"Yes. I am. But I went Home, son. Home to be with my Father." The woman's face took on a deeply apologetic look. "I'm sorry I had to leave you so early. I wish I had had more time with you and your sister. And I'm sorry that you've left everything I taught you behind. I'd hoped you'd keep your relationship with Christ, let Him help you through the hard times."

"I couldn't. Not after He took you from me. Jeannie needed you, Mom. I needed you." His voice turned again to a whisper.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Believe me when I say I missed you too. But I'm in a better place now, one that hopefully you'll be seeing eventually."

"So everything you told me was true?"

"Yes, Rodney. Yes. It's all true." Her voice took on an excited tone. "And it's more beautiful than you could ever imagine. More… More everything. It's amazing."

The tears began flowing again. "I'm sorry I turned away."

"Don't tell me, tell Him." With barely a swish, she was gone, only the Presence of his Father any evidence that he hadn't been hallucinating.

"I'm sorry, Father. I'm sorry… So sorry…"

"I forgive you, Rodney."

"Thank you."

"Remember that I'm always here for you. Whenever you need Me, I'll be here."

"I'll remember." He promised.

"Good." Though His comforting Presence still filled the room, he knew that He was gone.

The silence that came was a good one, not an awkward one.

"McKay?" Sheppard's voice floated from the open doorway. "You here?"

Though he didn't answer, Sheppard walked over to him, carefully sitting down beside him.

"Hey, McKay? You alright?"

He shook his head, tears drying. "No. But I will be."

"Good… Can I have the gun?"

"What?" He looked at his hands, still holding the gun he'd thought about using only a few minutes previous. "Oh, yeah. Here." He shoved the weapon at Sheppard, hoping to never see it again.

"Thanks."

An awkward silence swept over them before Sheppard broke it. "You hungry?"

"Always."

There was Someone that cared about him, and if he tried, he might just get some friends. And for now, that's all that mattered.

_Are better than a Hallelujah_


	7. Carson

Author's Note: This is the last chapter- I wanted to do one more, but I've had such a block lately I didn't think I could. So it ends here with Carson.  
Special thanks to _Ladygris _for betaing, and _DaniWilder _for giving me the inspiration to finish.

I'd like to also thank everyone that has reviewed/favorited/alerted this story and/or me. And _Lithane _for his... interesting review of Rodney's chapter.

/\_/\

_Better than a church bell ringing  
Better than a choir singing out, singing out_

We pour out our miseries  
God just hears a melody  
Beautiful, the mess we are  
The honest cries of breaking hearts  
Are better than a Hallelujah

He remembered his mother taking him to Church, remembered the choir singing… The old Scottish bell, calling every one to attendance… He missed it. Wanted to go back to it, but doubted he ever would. The real Carson Beckett was dead; he was just a clone. Showing up at that old Church would make people suspicious and raise questions they didn't need raised.

So he settled for memories, videos and pictures. A picture of his mother at a pot-luck, her smiling face so happy. So happy… His mother thought he was dead, a technical truth even if he still lived.

A tear slipped down his cheek, slowly falling to drop on his satchel of clothing. He was packed, his meager possessions folded and carefully placed in the bag. He was ready to head back to the infirmary, but a picture on his nightstand made him pause.  
It was one of him, his mother and his seven siblings. He loved them all, missed them. But he was lost to them without their understanding of the cause.

Reaching into the top drawer of his nightstand, he pulled out a piece of plain, white paper, a large, hardback book and a black ink pen. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he readied the paper.

He was dying, he knew that. But the other Carson didn't have a chance to write a last letter- he did. So that was what he was going to do.

"_Dear Mother,"_ He began, his handwriting starting to cover the page. _"I miss you… I love it here… I have good friends… I love you…"_

Those words and more poured onto the page, flowing with the same speed as his tears. But he felt they were good tears. His heart finally felt peace. After all he'd done, been through, seen, thought, hoped and prayed… He was finally at peace with it all.

_We pour out our miseries  
God just hears a melody  
Beautiful, the mess we are  
The honest cries of breaking hearts  
Are better than a Hallelujah_

_(Better than a Hallelujah sometimes)  
Better than a Hallelujah  
(Better than a Hallelujah sometimes)_


End file.
